My Sister's Keeper
by A Hopeless Wanderer
Summary: AU: Emma was destined to be the savior, but she was not the first-born child. Upon their reawakening, the Charming family must come to terms with the burdens left in the wake of the curse, to save a daughter born to darkness.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Trying my hand at writing after a long hiatus... OUaT seriously sparked my muse! Apologies for any discrepancies in the storyline from here on out, I'm taking a bit of artistic liberty regarding the Charming Family history. This will be an ongoing story! Much love 3**

_"Snow… the wardrobe only takes one." Charming slowly lifted his gaze to meet that of his wife; their eyes shone with unshed tears. The queen was rocking slowly, a toddler sleeping soundly atop the swelling mound of her developing pregnancy. Only two years of age, the girl was still small enough to be cradled in the crook of her mother's arm. Snow stroked her daughter's dark locks, bending slightly to press a kiss to her temple. _

_The young royals now had a choice. "I can't do this, Charming. We cannot condemn our family." Beneath her hand, the child stirred, furrowing deeper into the material of Snow's nightwear. Light from the hallway glowed across her face, illuminating thick lashes spread over fair skin, and a chin to match that of her mother. _

_"You can go through, _with_ Emma, while you are still pregnant. She can have her best chance, love," He paused, brushing his wife's damp cheek with the padding of his thumb. The thought of dividing his family hurt more than the gravest of flesh-wounds. "I'll protect her, Snow, we'll be together. I'll always protect our Juliette." _

* * *

_Raw, bleeding fingers scraped along the dirt floor, digging for her memories of happier times. A birthday cake, a Sunday dress; a little boy whose face she hadn't witnessed in ages, yet whose voice punctuated the silence, pulled her from the brink of madness. _

_She knew little of who she was, where she'd been, but for the names she'd heard uttered from the woman, her keeper. _Princess_, she'd been called_. Daughter, sister. _Those words meant little to her out of context, in a mind void of faces with which she could associate them. _

_The candle had burned out days ago…or had it been this morning? For all she knew, the darkness had lasted weeks, or months. An immeasurable amount of time had cultured film beneath her eyelids, sprouted rust along her joints. Darkness ensconced her. She was alone. _

* * *

"You found us!"

Twenty-eight years after the curse hit, and Snow White-turned-Mary Margaret Blanchard (or was it the other way around?) was clutching her grown child for dear life. Nearly three decades had slipped by, trapping her in the solitary mind of a stranger, stripping her of motherhood and wifehood. She had seen her husband married to another woman, watched her daughter flourish into the savior she was destined to be, blissfully unaware that the people she loved most were just barely out of her grasp. A strong, reassuring arm snaked around her back, with a matching hand gently cupping their daughter's head. The family was complete.

"Grandpa?" Snow was torn from her musings, peering over her daughter to find her student— no, _grandson_, standing before them. A giggle escaped her lips. Moments ago, she had become a mother, and now she was a _grandmother_!

Charming leaned down, awe-struck as he inspected the boy. "Yeah kid… I suppose so." Grandfather enveloped grandson into a hug, incorporating him into the tight mass of a family reunion.

"She did it," Henry realized slowly, "she saved us!"

A burst of warmth blossomed in Snow's heart. "She saved all of us," she interjected, smiling through a fresh batch of unshed tears. However, gazing upon her beautiful second-born, the last cobwebs of Mary Margaret's haze dissipated, reminding the queen of the final missing piece in their familial puzzle.

"Juliette," she gasped softly, eyes flicking to her husband's. "Charming, where is Juliette?" Phantom pains burned the muscles of Snow's arms, a sudden ache to hold the toddler she'd left behind. Twenty eight years was far too long to miss either of her babies… even if she'd been unaware that she had children at all.

Three sets of eyes gazed upon her. "Who is Juliette?" Emma asked slowly, frowning in question. It dawned on Snow that her youngest had no recollection of her older sister, no history to be restored once the curse was broken. There were stories Emma had lived, their entire family had lived, to which her daughter was not privy…After all, Henry's book only covered the bare bones of the lives they previously held.

"Emma," Charming started, "this may come as a surprise, but you've an older sister… Although I don't suppose she's aged a day since the curse struck, so she's technically…she isn't your elder anymore, huh?" He let out a small chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief at the apparent disruption in chronological continuity.

"Stranger things have happened today," Emma offered sarcastically.

The Savior sucked in a shaky breath, looking not to her parents, but to her son for confirmation. Henry shook his head. "But… she wasn't in the book. There was no Juliette, Miss Blan—grandma!" His head shook again, a look of confusion morphing into one of deep concentration.

Blood turned to ice in Snow's veins. "Charming," she whispered, another tear dripping down the slope of her cheeks. The king's hand found hers, and she grasped it with the last ounce of strength she could muster. Somewhere in this town, her daughter was waiting for her, _but where?_ Their baby, their first-born, alone like her sister had also endured.

A smaller hand tugged at her remaining free appendage, as her musings were once again interrupted. "Juliette, you said?" Henry's expression was eager, and hole flickered in Snow's chest. "Juliette, Juliette… _Juliette_!" The boy's eyes bugged out from his skull, mouth agape.

"What is it, Henry?" David asked eagerly, crouching down to meet his grandson at eye-level. Henry shook his head in disbelief.

"I…I know her," he said softly, a far-out intonation in his voice registering his presence in a memory acquainted only with him. "You've got to come with me."

Grasping his mother's hand, Henry set off at a quickened pace, leading his newfound family straight to Storybrooke's graveyard.

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	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: My apologies for the week-long delay! Finals week is certainly a monster on hobbies, particularly those which doesn't pertain directly to school week. I appreciate the reviews/follows/favorites— keep it up! Enjoy Chapter 2 as well :) **

_Previously in _My Sister's Keeper:

_"I…I know her," he said softly, a far-out intonation in his voice registering his presence in a memory acquainted only with him. "You've got to come with me." _

_Grasping his mother's hand, Henry set off at a quickened pace, leading his newfound family straight to Storybrooke's graveyard._

* * *

Henry tugged on his mother's hand, weaving her between unkempt graves; Charming and Snow followed close behind. Ahead stood the Mills' family mausoleum, whose facade had visibly begun to crumbled with the discontinuation of the curse; Vines carved paths along its roof. It was a perfect portrait of decay, and if Henry's intuition was unerring, the eldest Charming daughter was hidden inside.

Stepping over the final row of tombs, the family approached, desperation to find their missing link staunched by their caution regarding the unfamiliar territory. The door opened with ease, revealing the dark casket within, illuminated only by the large, stone glass windows along the base of the roof.

Upon her son's insistence, albeit skeptically, Emma pushed the coffin aside. What should have weighed more than the petit woman could handle was cast away with hardly enough effort to break a sweat. No one was entirely surprised when the inner staircase was revealed at the foundation, spiraling into near blackness. Despite the unknown, the family continued.

There was a chamber, filled with what Snow knew to be boxes upon boxes of well-preserved human hearts; her stomach turned. They cast glows in the relative darkness, swelling and deflating various glowing shadows along the walls. Beyond the open room was a narrow hallway, lined with a handful of wooden doors; each looked the same, resembling the doors of rather upscale dungeons from the world they came from. They were adorned with smooth black stones, bordering their arched tops, brightly glinting in the glow of the hearts.

"Here," Henry said urgently, his fingers rapidly brushing against the stone walls as he approached the last door, at the very end of the hallway. The boy lunged for the doorknob, before the rest of the party could react. However, despite bearing the majority of his weight upon the knob, it didn't budge. He heaved once, twice, before his mother grasped his arm, tugging him away from his efforts.

He frowned. "But last time… it wasn't locked!" Eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Maybe there's a secret password?"

"Henry, when was the last time you came here?" David stepped forward, kneeling down to maintain eyecontact with his grandson, gently grasping his shoulder. Between the thick layers of dust covering each and every surface below the tomb, and the obvious lack of visitors as of late, the corridor appeared to have been untouched for a long period of time.

Henry's frown intensified. "I don't remember," he said softly, eyes widening. "I don't remember," he repeated, louder.

Rising again, David turned to his family, a solemn look upon his face. He wordlessly reached for the door, strong hand overlapping a smaller handprint in the coating of dust upon the knob. Gritting his teeth, the prince pushed against months and years of rust. With an audible groan, the door swung open.

* * *

_"If I've told you once, I've told you multiple times, child: Do _not_ leave the house without my permission." _

_The frail girl looked away, tears burning her eyes in shame. "But mom—" _

_"I am _NOT_ your mother, you foolish imp," dark hair was vainly reset into place, and a cruel smile painted the woman's blood-red lips. "Your mother is a vile woman, and she left you with me, or don't you remember?"_

_Thinner, yet equally inky locks fell across the child's face, swaying with the motion of her robotically shaking head. "I remember," she whispered. _

_"And tell me again… Why was that, dearest?" The grin widened. _

_There was an almost inaudible sniffle. "My parents gave me up, because I am unlovable. I am a monster. Nobody wants me." _

_With a cackle, the wicked woman snuffed out the remaining candle, kicked up a bit of dust, and both exited and re-locked the heavy chamber door._

* * *

They all released breaths they didn't know they were holding.

Upon a bed in the center of the room, elevated like a surgeon's table, lay the girl. She was asleep— or so it seemed. Dark lashed rested across her fair cheeks, matching hair fanned along the starched pillow beneath her head; her hands rested at her waist, bony wrists crossed to hold a curiously unwilted rose. Clothed in a relatively simple dress, she looked to be asleep, though she was far too still... And much older than the last time they'd seen her.

"Juliette," Snow whispered, rushing to her daughter's side. Her husband quickly joined beside her. "Charming, she's ice cold… A sleeping curse?" Tears dripped onto their child's bare arm, and the mother dropped to rest her forehead against the smooth skin.

David's breath hitched at the prospect, but his eyes steeled with a look of determination. "Then we break it," he affirmed, and bent to press a tender kiss to his eldest daughter's forehead.

Emma and Henry looked on with a mixture of horror and confusion, the events of the morning having passed without much of an explanation. From what they understood, the object of her parent's sudden desperation, and a figure long since removed from Henry's past, was lying prone on the bed before them, suspended under the effects that had once plagued Snow herself.

The kiss was terminated, but as David righted himself, there was no noticeable change.

"True love's kiss," Emma murmured. "It worked on Henry— Why hasn't it worked now?" Snow turned to her youngest child, eyes glistening with unshed tears. However, this look steeled as she noticed the new figure in the doorway.  
There was a pause. "Because," Regina laughed, voice toned with an audibly biting smugness, "she isn't suffering from a sleeping curse. She's dead."


End file.
